The Stuff That Stars Are Made Of
by Violets Blue
Summary: AU: Half-star Lucy has always been second best, but when Lucy and nearly full-star sister Susan join the resistance movement against rebelling nobility, to help the princes, and their lost sister, the full-star Lilliandil, things change. Ed/Lu S/P/RD/C
1. Chapter 1: In Which it Begins

**A/N: Okay, so this is an AU or AR fic. No incest.**

**Don't own Chronicles of Narnia**

**Please review!**

****I revised the ending a little; the ages are slightly different, and there are some changes in the way I ended this chapter.**

I suppose this story begins in the sky. For the instigator of these events came from there; for he was a star, by the name of Ramandu. A retired star, earth-bound and less mortal, but a star nonetheless. I, nor his daughters, ever learned in our lifetimes, ever learned his reasoning behind leaving behind the eternity of night sky for a quiet, terrestrial life in the Western Wood, near the general location of Beaversdam. The part of the Wood Ramandu chose to settle down in was secluded, and solitary. Ramandu adopted a woodcutter's life, and a woodcutter's name: Pevensie. Ramandu Pevensie was a likable man and star, and was able to make friends quickly, despite the location of his home. The closest of his friends being the charming Beavers and Tumnus the Faun, a red-headed half-goat who resided not so very far from his own dwelling.

Tumnus, in fact, was credited with the coincidence of Ramandu meeting Lirandil. Lirandil, too, was a star, a retired one who found herself in the same predicament as Ramandu.

On that fated day, Tumnus had asked Ramandu, as a friendly favor, to come help him collect his mail. Tumnus, despite his remote location, was a very socially active person, and had somehow managed to acquire friends and family throughout the whole of Narnia. These various and widespread relations always felt compelled to send Tumnus random stuff they thought he wanted or needed (he didn't, but he was too kind to send it anywhere else; he was almost a bit of a hoarder).

So, Ramandu, of course, agreed to help the faun collect the predicted onslaught of mail from the post office. A cynic as I was once would have said it was simply lucky circumstance, timing, and coincidence that Ramandu knocked into Lirandil as he was leaving the post office, but a true believer would have known it was cold, hard fate.

As I recall the story going, Lirandil emerged from the pile of pile of parcels and packages glowing angrily. She looked up at the man who had knocked her over to the ground. She was probably about to yell something indignant and clever, like, "What is the _matter _with you!" But she had looked up, and their eyes met, her sky blue ones looking into his dark sapphire eyes.

Even I must admit, it was love at first sight.

You have to give good old Ramandu some credit here. He was a fine enough looking guy, white-blond with blue eyes, but Lirandil was a true beauty, complete with sky blue eyes, button nose, and long, glowing gold hair, and he gets her to fall in love with him and marry him within _days. _Pretty impressive, if you ask me.

The first month was happy. It was the first phase of a relationship where your partner is Aslan-blessed and perfect in every way imaginable, and they think the same about you by some miracle.

Unfortunately, Lirandil had flaws. That's the problem with love at first sight. You can't always tell a person's faults after one glance. And everyone has some faults. No one is _that _perfect. One of Lirandil's faults, and unfortunately this fault stole the happiness from her marriage, was that she was restless. Too restless for her own good. Lirandil was unable to follow through on things, often becoming bored and losing interest, moving on to something else that seemed more interesting at the time. Being a woodcutter's wife in the quiet Western Woods was one of those things, and Lirandil tired of it. She criticized and complained, dreaming about places she could be while she stuck sweeping floors in a life where _nothing _ever changed.

This wore Ramandu down considerably, and luckily, they were blessed with something life-changing and interesting: their daughter, Lilliandil, was born. Unfortunately, Lilliandil's birth marked the end of Ramandu's first marriage, and of his wife.

Star women aren't as robust and strong as human women, and successful childbirth from a female star was a rarity. Lirandil's delicate star body couldn't handle the intense pain and damage from Lilliandil's birth, and she died.

Lilliandil was very much like her mother. They shared the same face, toothy smile, sparkly nature. She had her father's golden hair and sapphire blue eyes. But she was like her mother in that she was a slightly rowdy and unruly child, always getting into trouble with her father. But Ramandu could never force himself to chastise her, for the girl was so innocent-looking and charismatic, literally and figuratively lighting up the room she was in like a lantern, aside from the fact that all of Lilliandil's starlight was pure and for the most part, un-flickering. Lilliandil was a full-blooded star, her blood as pure as any star that had been born in the heavens, much less the Western Wood.

When Lilliandil was little less than a year old, Ramandu met another woman. A half-star by the name of Philippa Parkson. Ramandu once again met his wife through his friends in the Western Woods. Philippa was visiting the Beavers, old friends of her human father's, when Ramandu dropped by with baby Lilliandil to borrow Mrs. Beaver's jam or something.

As Mrs. Beaver tells it, Philippa lost her heart not just to the woodcutter, but to the woodcutter's full-star daughter.

Needless to say, Ramandu took the half-star as his wife. It was somewhat of a miracle and a mystery of how Ramandu fell in love with the two _very _different women. Philippa was dark-haired, blue-eyes, and pale-skinned with rosy cheeks. She was very beautiful, but with a mortal, hardier sense as opposed to Lirandil's delicate physique. Philippa and Lirandil had only four things in common: they both loved Ramandu, they both were women, they both had star-blood, and their marriages were less than successful, despite the whole 'love at first sight' thing.

Philippa and Ramandu were happy at first, much like with Lirandil. Then, Philippa became pregnant. Her round stomach tied her to her husband and the dull, quiet life of a poor woodcutter's wife in the middle of nowhere. Philippa had grown up a wealthy merchant's daughter, and was accustomed to an easy and beautiful life full of fine, pretty things. Philippa was prone to being vain, and knew that her beauty alone could have made her the king's wife, but she had _settled _for a dirt poor fallen-star-turned-woodcutter, which was _far _beneath her standards. Philippa made it clear that he was lucky to have her, and was extremely critical about anything Ramandu ever did. She had convinced herself in her vanity and self-imposed blindness that she had dreamed up the starhood of her husband and stepdaughter.

Ramandu did truly love Philippa, for all her awful faults, almost as much as he had loved Lirandil.

And he loved his second daughter, a 3/4 star christened Susan, as much as he loved his full-star first-born.

Unfortunately for Philippa, she and Lirandil had a fifth thing in common: they both died from childbirth. Although Lirandil died from bleeding out after giving birth, Philippa made it a week before she caught a high fever, and died a few days later.

After Philippa died from what was probably puerperal fever, Ramandu was faced with a dilemma. He had two infant daughters, no wife, and a job and house he had to maintain. Taking Helen Moore as his third wife was done more out of necessity that love.

Helen was by far the plainest of his wives. She was fully human, without a drop of star-blood in her. Helen was actually pretty in a simple way, but she was nothing compared to the luminous stars that were his other wives. She was small and mousy, her hair light brown and wispy. She was a quiet, practical soul. She was also the most bookish and intellectual of the Pevensie brides, being the daughter of a University professor from Archenland. Helen was sweet to him, compassionate to her stepdaughters, and Ramandu learned to love her more than his previous wives, put together.

She was the only wife who made him feel as if he was worthy of her.

Helen's human blood proved her to be the strongest and most resilient of his brides when she was the only one who wasn't taken from him upon the birth of their daughter.

Helen gave him Lucy when Lilliandil was four and Susan was three, and from then on, the Pevensie family was as happy as any family could ever be. Ramandu himself in those last few years shone brighter than he ever had, on earth or in the heavens.

Lucy, Lilliandil, and Susan grew up as sisters, all equally adored by their parents. Lilliandil and Susan weren't told that Helen wasn't their real mother until they were older.

Lucy idolized both of her sisters, following the two of them around everywhere. Neither of them were very welcoming towards the tag along. Susan believed herself too grown up to associate with 'little' Lucy, even though Lucy was only three years her junior. Lilliandil's head was always very far away, and she was often so far ahead of her sisters, she didn't notice them trying to keep up with her. Lilliandil, like her star mother, was restless, audacious, foolhardy, and stubborn to the point of recklessness. She got along the best with Lucy because they were alike in the fact that Lilliandil's reckless adventures fueled Lucy's powerful curiosity, and Lilliandil liked an audience to her daredevil moves. Lucy could be counted to go with her eldest sister almost anywhere, partially because her curiosity often willed her to explore the unknown, and because she was too gullible and innocent to realize that Lilliandil really didn't think too far ahead of, "That would be so incredibly _thrilling!" _to where she should have been thinking at, "That looks incredibly dangerous."

That was where Susan came in. Lucy once described Susan as Lilliandil's 'little voice that says that this might be a dumb idea', for it appeared that the full-star Pevensie didn't _have _one in the first place. Susan was sensible and practical, her imagination rather limited and narrow-minded. Susan spent half her time trying to teach the Lilliandil her limits, for the full-star seemed to think that she was immortal, which she wasn't, and the other half trying to teach Lucy to be cautious and weary. Both were lost causes, for Lucy was simply too trusting and Lilliandil too rash.

Susan was far from adventurous, and her curiosity was as limited as her imagination. Susan was content with her life, because it was all she had ever known, and could never imagine anything better, as her mother could.

It was Susan's lack of wanderlust and venturesomeness that often saved the sisters from Lilliandil's impulsive actions and Lucy's inquisitiveness. Once, when Lilliandil was eight, Susan was seven, and Lucy was four, Lilliandil wondered if poking a sleeping bear really _was _a bad idea as the grown-ups insisted it was, or if it was some fun treat they kept from children for themselves. Lucy had never seen a bear, or a bear's den, so she was eager to go. Susan, however, was adamant that if Lilliandil or Lucy went anywhere _near _the bear, or its den, she would tattle to their mother about the sweets Lucy had assisted Lilliandil in stealing. Knowing Susan wasn't bluffing, Lilliandil and Lucy returned home unscathed.

As always when Susan saved her (and Lucy) from injury, Lilliandil was angry with her younger sister for depriving her of the fun she deserved. Lucy was quick to forgive, and even stubborn Lilliandil couldn't hold a grudge against Susan (try as she might) when she thought hard about what she'd been about to do (and drag Lucy into). Usually, once the thrill of promised danger was out of her system, Lilliandil realized it was a foolish idea and that Susan had meant to help.

Growing up, and even to this day, Lucy was not worth comparing in looks to her elder sisters. Lucy was a pretty child, with a lovely smile and the traditional Pevensie girl blue eyes. Her hair was a light brown with a tint of copper, cropped at her chin. Her face was round, chubby, and dimpled. Lucy, being the innocent that she was, didn't understand why Lilliandil and Susan got so fiercely protective over her whenever someone mentioned how beautiful Susan and/or Lilliandil was.

"_Lucy's _just as pretty as I am," was the cool reply, followed by Lucy being shepherded quickly away from the person, who usually just stood around looking confused. Lilliandil and Susan adored Lucy (try as they might to hide it), and thought highly of her general goodness and innocence, and it made them extremely and suddenly furious when someone overlooked Lucy (who was undoubtedly the plain one) in favor of one of the more beautiful Pevensie girls. It made them even angrier when someone dared to _pity _the youngest Pevensie simply because her looks weren't up to the standards of her elder sisters.

Lucy hadn't noticed any of this, and if she thought it odd, she kept it to herself. But the one mild jealousy she did mention was a petty one.

It started out with Ramandu entertaining his daughters with light he cast from his fingertips. "Remember, always reach for the stars!" And suddenly, Ramandu's hands were twinkling, and the girls squealed and attempted to reach them.

"Look, Dad. I reached for the stars!" Lilliandil exclaimed, making her own hands twinkle like diamonds. Susan, not wanting to be outdone, shouted, "Me too!" and with a little more effort involved than Lilliandil's instantaneous 'stars', she made her own hands twinkle, admittedly a little duller.

"Me too!" Lucy said. But, try as she might, Lucy couldn't get he hands to twinkle. Her hair and face acquired a dull, golden glow, which fizzed out almost immediately.

Lucy ran away to her mother, who had been waiting for something like this to happen.

"Why can't I do it, too?" Lucy asked, her eyes looking pleadingly at Helen.

With a sigh, Helen answered: "You're only a _half-_star. Lilly is a full-star, and Susie is nearly so." Lucy nodded, though she didn't understand it at the time.

It was within Lucy's seventh year (Susan's tenth and Lilliandil's eleventh) that word of trouble in the capital reached their ears from the source of Mr. Tumnus.

He had arrived at the Pevensie household out of breath. The adults had locked the door to the sitting room behind them, and were having a whispered conversation. Lilliandil had the idea to eavesdrop, and Lucy was curious as to what could have scared Tumnus so badly, so she went along with it. Susan was indignant about the impropriety of it all, but she was tempted.

"It's happened. She's declared war on King Frank." Tumnus said, and the girls heard Helen gasp.

"I _knew _that old witch was trouble! She gave me the chills just looking at her." Ramandu shuddered, and the girls exchanged looks of horror: their father- _scared? _You might as well ask, does winter never end? Or, does Aslan's roar not scare people? It was that preposterous, and it made the idea of this person declaring war even more frightening.

"Jadis gave everyone chills, dear heart. She's a snow witch!" Helen sighed. Lilliandil turned to Susan and Lucy, her pale face unusually pallid. _White Witch, _she mouthed, and Lucy clapped her hands to her mouth.

"I'd just be careful," Tumnus warned. The girls heard him move over to the window, and Lucy imagined him checking the window for secret listeners.

"_What's he doing?" _Susan mouthed/whispered to the others, her inferior imagination not conjuring up a picture of their parents and the faun. Lilliandil hurriedly shushed her, and they almost missed the next part.

Tumnus had continued in softer tones: "The Witch is hunting down the Order. Rogin and Bricklethumb're dead, you know."

"Poor Duffle." Helen sniffed, and Lucy imagined her mother was silently crying in grief for whoever Rogin and Bricklethumb were.

"Lion save us." Ramandu said, and the girls heard the other two adults mumble, "Amen."

"I came here personally to tell you to be on alert; couldn't risk sending a letter. But if I were you, I'd get the girls and get away."

"I am not a coward, Tumnus. We don't fear this Witch." Ramandu said boldly.

"I know, Ramandu, but I say- she's targeting Order members! I know, you and Helen are inactive, but that won't stop her!"

"I will not set that example for my daughters: when things get tough, run away!"

"You think the Witch cares about sparing the lives of the innocent children. As far as she's concerned, your daughters are guilty by association. She'll kill them, too." Tumnus said, and Lucy heard Helen gasp out in fear.

"I'd like to see her try." Was the cool reply from their father.

"Go Dad," Lilliandil said quietly.

"Did you hear something?" Helen asked, and they heard her feet marching towards the door. The girls dove into the wardrobe across the hall, swinging the door shut just as Helen opened the door of the sitting room.

"That was close," Lucy said a bit too loudly. The door swung open, and Helen, Ramandu, and Tumnus stood glaring down at the girls.

"I say. What are you children doing in the wardrobe?" Ramandu asked sternly.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you." Lilliandil said. The adults looked suspiciously from eldest, to elder, to youngest of the sisters, and back again.

"We were... uh, cleaning. It was Lilly's idea, if you can believe it. I mean, _Lilly, _doing chores of her own free will? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would consider it impossible! But there you go." Susan covered up somewhat convincingly, if a bit too quickly.

Ramandu sighed. "Off to bed. Go."

They did not need telling twice. They exited the wardrobe, ran into their room, and huddled together to discuss what they'd heard.

"Father's scared," Susan said. "Something bad is happening."

"Is _She _really going to hurt us?" Lucy asked, and the elder two exchanged a look.

"Daddy won't let anything happen to us, or Mum." Susan said, somewhat confidently.

"We're safe here, in the middle of nowhere, where nothing _ever _happens," Lilliandil reassured, almost as if she wished it weren't true. Lucy was adequately comforted by these words from the two people in the world Lucy loved the most (after Aslan, of course).

If only those words had been true. But they weren't; And so, it begins.

**A/N: Bless me with your opinions.**

**I'll try to get 2 up as fast as possible.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Fire and the Berries

**A/N: Sorry for the long update! I had so much stuff going on... Review on your way out!**

Lucy was good at eavesdropping. Not because she wanted to be; or because she liked to intrude on other people's (primarily the elder residents of their house) private conversations, it was just that she always found herself inadvertently stumbling upon conversations not intended for her ears, and once she had heard a certain amount of the conversation, she found herself too curious to tear herself away. With the increasing amount of these accidental spying sessions, Lucy was rather good at sneaking around undetected.

Lucy didn't really know the origin of her sneaking skills, but she found they came in handy when she found herself in sticky situations her curiosity had gotten her into. Her sneaking often lead her to find out very interesting things. Like, for example: Somebody named Caspian the Ninth was dead; somebody also called Helen had died; a mouse called Peepicheek had been "taken in".

Lucy knew, full well, that her parents didn't want her to hear these things. They didn't want her to know that her mother's voice took on the air of a much older, wearier person, or that her father seemed to be unable to make a decision on whether to stay or run away.

Lucy never shared this information with her sisters, for reasons even she didn't know. Lucy was only human, after all, so perhaps it was the petty feeling of power over her sisters by knowing more than she did; or perhaps Lucy didn't want to feel the shame of having listened in on her parents that telling the older two would certainly bring on; most likely, Lucy didn't think too much of what she heard, she did still believe her father invincible and her mother immortal, and that they would figure out some way to fix whatever problem there was.

It so happened that Lucy had accidentally started listening in on a conversation, about someone named Peter who was in danger and didn't know it. Lucy was listening, entranced by the high of secret knowledge when Susan and Lilliandil, who were arguing over the best way to French braid (which is strange, because there is really only one right way to do it) and were looking for Lucy to demonstrate their knowledge of French braiding. They came upon her just as Helen was mentioning something about stars.

"I say, Lu! What are you doing out here?" Lilliandil asked loudly, raising her golden eyebrows in question.

"Shh!" Lucy shushed urgently, waving her arms in signal to quiet down, but Helen's words were lost.

"Lucy, what's going-" Susan asked just as Ramandu and Helen opened the door, anger on their faces.

"Eavesdropping, girls?" Ramandu asked.

"Dad, I just got here-" Lilliandil defended insistenly.

"Hush, daughter!" Ramandu scolded. Lilliandil wrinkled her nose in offense at being told to hush.

"I am disappointed in you three. I would have expected better, especially from you, Susan," Helen reprimanded, her eyes flashing with anger and a darker shade of something else Lucy couldn't identify. Susan looked scandalised at the accusation.

"Lucy, this was very immature of you." Ramandu scolded her firmly. Lucy felt tears welling up in her blue eyes, and she blinked rapidly to rid herself of them.

"Dad, she's seven! She doesn't know better," Lilliandil said angrily in defense of Lucy, pulling the youngest sister to her in a protective way.

Ramandu sighed in that tired way parents do when they've got _enough _to deal with and the children pick that_ exact _moment to be difficult. "I'm getting too old for this." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand with an exhausted sigh and turned back into his study.

Helen turned to the girls, raising her eyebrows in a reproving way. Susan and Lucy hung their heads in shame, but Lilliandil held hers high. Getting into trouble wasn't something that scared her. Her blue eyes met Helen's brown, in a rebellious challenge of Helen's authority.

"I haven't done anything wrong, Helen." Lilliandil's voice was passive, but her tone suggested danger. Susan began to tug Lilliandil's arm in attempt to diffuse her temper. "You can't boss me around."

"I think you'll find I can." Helen's voice threatened, _Back off now. _

"You _aren't _my mother!" Lilliandil yelled, her words aimed to wound.

Helen sighed tiredly. "I don't have time to deal with you now. Just go, go somewhere. Pick berries or something," Helen ignored Lilliandil stiffly, turning to Lucy and Susan.

"Of course, Mummy," Susan replied, gripping Lucy's arm and grabbing their two baskets. Helen leaned towards Susan under the ruse of fixing Susan's dark, dark brown hair.

"Promise me you'll look after the others?" Helen whispered in Susan's ear. Susan nodded importantly. Helen nodded, and kissed her cheek, saying: "Be a big girl."

Lilliandil sighed loudly, seeming about her theatrics having been annoyed.

"Berry picking? How dull," Lilliandil groused, taking her own basket and following Susan and Lucy out the door, pointedly not bidding Helen goodbye.

"That's the beauty of it," Susan snapped, and Lilliandil glared at her. "Even you couldn't make something dangerous out of it!"

"Is that a challenge?" Lilliandil caught up with her two younger sisters and raised a golden eyebrow.

"No." Susan said flatly, and Lucy stifled a giggle.

"Susan, do bears eat berries by the river? Because Puzzle says that he saw a bear there, and that it tried to eat him! He said he barely escaped with his life!" Lucy said, her eyes wide with fear.

Susan sighed, wishing (not for the first time, might I add) that Lucy weren't so gullible. "Not a Talking Bear, I'm sure. Puzzle is a liar, Lucy, so don't believe a word of anything he says."

"He can be a real donkey's arse when he wants to," Lilliandil joked, laughing slightly at her pun. Her voice took on a more serious tone as she said: "In all seriousnesss, Lu, I've been around here longer than he has, and I've never seen a Dumb bear around here." This was technically true; Lilliandil had gone through a "bear-hunting" phase in which she (and a grousing Susan) tromped around the woods, looking for bears. Lucy was too little to remember, and Lilliandil's expeditions had not turned up any actual bears, although they disturbed a great many squirrels. The bear that she had attempted to poke while it was asleep was a Talking Bear, and therefore there wasn't too much actual danger.

"Are you _sure_?" Lucy asked, reasonably reassured but just double-checking.

"Positive. Say," Lilliandil proposed, her head beginning to glow with an oncoming idea, "What if we-"

Sensing the coming a dangerously thrilling scheme, Susan cut her off. "No, Mummy _said_ we have to pick the fireberries."

"Well. Be that way." Lilliandil grumped. She caught sight of the riverside berry grove, and rushed ahead of Susan.

"Lucy, _please _try not to wander off. Mummy put me in charge, so-"

"That's a load of nebula!" Lilliandil interrupted, whirling around to face Susan, glowing indignantly. She used one of Ramandu's favorite star curses. Her pale cheeks were stained with the juice of the berries she had already eaten. "_I'm _the oldest, last I checked! That _automatically _puts _me _in charge!"

"No, it doesn't. I'm most responsible-" Susan said slowly, as if reasoning with a small child. She placed her hands on her hips firmly.

"As if! I'm _plenty _responsible!" Lilliandil contradicted, her hands on her hips, mocking Susan's grown-up stance.

Susan sighed as if she were a thirty-year-old mother of two rambunctious children, not the ten-year-old self-appointed caretaker of two sisters. "We'll each take care of ourselves, alright? And we'll both take care of Lu." Susan extended her hand business-like.

Lucy looked up from her berries upon hearing her name. "What?"

The two elder sisters ignored her. Lilliandil scrutinized Susan's face, looking for signs of mockery. Finding none, Lilliandil shrugged.

"Agreed." They shook on it.

"Say, Su, do you think someone, I don't know, maybe... _eleven _or so years old was to, oh, I don't know, swing all the way across the river on that vine-"

"Illogical." Susan loved that word, for it made her seem smarter than Lilliandil and the majority of the other children who populated the greater Beaversdam area.

"Never say never," Lilliandil said, smirking in the way she always did when she felt she was about to prove someone (usually Susan) wrong. She pulled her dress over her head and discarded it on the ground, so that she was standing in her thin undershift.

The following hours, for yes, it took _hours, _Lilliandil didn't defy gravity and pick up a suitable velocity to swing to the other bank, but she did find that it was an exhilirating experience to simply swing into the river. Lucy agreed, and together they coaxed Susan into it. She was not as pleased with the outcome (getting _very _wet) and began mumbling about how Father _wouldn't _be pleased.

Her complaints fell on deaf ears, however, and they spent the better part of the day _not _picking berries. In fact, they forgot they were even supposed to be picking berries.

It was well after dark by the time Susan's pleas to go home finally convinced Lilliandil and Lucy to don their outer dresses and discarded baskets and began to head home.

The girls trudged home, tired and unwilling to leave the fun they'd had at the river behind for the tired and worn faces of their parents.

"Do you smell something?" Susan asked suddenly, stopping short. The other two had continued walking ahead, but stopped to stare at Susan, who was inhaling deep whiffs of air with a confused expression on her face. Lucy sniffed the air around, making weird noises as she did so. Lilliandil looked confused, breathing in through her nose.

"It smells like... smoke?" Lilliandil weighed that theory in her mind.

"Smoke? Yeah, it does." Susan agreed.

"Where is the smoke coming from?" Lucy asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Doesn't matter," Lilliandil said, moving along the path. Susan took Lucy's hand.

"Still, we should make sure Mum hasn't burnt supper again," Susan said. The other two shuddered in memory of the blackened 'food' Helen had served them in the past.

"That's probably what happened." Lilliandil agreed, albeit a little shakily. The girls quickened their pace, an unshakable feeling of something wrong was running through their minds.

"Ilck! All this smoke, you'd think Mum'd set-" Lilliandil, walking ahead of her sisters, stopped short. She stared in disbelief and oncoming horror as she completed the rest of her sentence with an added urgency, her mouth hanging open and her blue eyes wide in terror. "-the house on fire." She turned around to her sisters, the realization that she wasn't imagining it; it really was their house, and it really was on fire. Somewhere in her gut, she knew that her parents were in there; she could never tell you how she knew, but she knew she was right.

"The house is on fire!" Lilliandil yelped, and she rushed ahead, slamming against the door, which was jammed shut. "Dad! Mum! Daddy!"

"Lilly, wait!" Susan yelled, her eyes burning from the smoke. "Stay here, Lu." She ordered urgently, and Lucy nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

Susan ran to Lilliandil at a speed she had not known herself capable of reaching, and began prying her from the door. "Get away from here! It's too dangerous!" She shrieked, even in her hysteria managing to sound smart and sensible. Her efforts of pulling Lilliandil away from the burning house were reinvigorated as part of the porch ceiling collapsed perhaps five feet from the two.

Lilliandil was beyond reach in her crazed panic. This, here, was real danger. Not just to herself, but to people she loved. And she didn't like it one bit. "Su, let go! Mum and Dad are in there! We have to save them!"

"Lilly, no! You'll get hurt!" Susan cried. Lilliandil turned to Susan, blue eyes meeting meeting their twins, one set despairing, the other fearful. The desperate ones, the ones of the full-star, won out over the fearful ones of her sister's.

Susan too succumbed to panic, and slammed her own body against the door. Under the siege of their combined weight, the door burst open, unleashing the full heat of the fire onto their faces. Coughing at the sudden lack of oxygen, Lilliandil grabbed one of Susan's numerous handkerchiefs and held it to her mouth and nose. Susan copied her, and Lilliandil for once rushed into danger for the sake of someone other than herself.

Together, they tore through the burning house, more than once jumping to avoid blazing furniture and rubble that seemed to be collapsing from every direction. Soon, all they could see was the tears from the smoke and the blurred orange masses of towering flame looming from what seemed like out of nowhere. Adrenaline pumped through them as they raced up the stairs, all thoughts of the collapsing ceiling leaving their minds.

"Father! Mummy!" Susan screamed, coughing through the smoke.

"Dad? Dad? Mum? Daddy!" Lilliandil cried out, flinging open the door to Ramandu's study. It was there that Lilliandil saw a sight that would haunt her for the rest of her life: Ramandu and Helen, back into a corner of the room, a spear thrown through both of their bodies, pinning them to the wall. Vicious scratches and bites covered their bodies. Blood was on the floor, caught aflame in the blaze. It appeared Ramandu had shielded Helen with his own body.

"Daddy, no! No! Please! Wake up! Please, wake up!" Lilliandil threw herself to her father's side, tugging the spear that had taken their lives. She felt arms pull her away; she remembered fighting, scratching at the person who wouldn't let her die too.

The arms wouldn't let go. No matter how hard she struggled, they pulled her from the burning house, from her father. There was cool air, suddenly. Cool grass was under her. Sobs, cries of anguish, tears dripping onto her face. Whimpering, Lucy. Something heavy and heated, smelling of fire and smoke and singed hair was clutching her shoulders, taking heaving breaths. Tears. Susan.

Lilliandil coughed, and slumped backward in the arms of her sister, losing consciousness and escaping into a world of fireberries and rivers, of sisters and laughter, where her parents weren't dead and she was happy.

**a/n: In case you were wondering, Ramandu and Helen were being tough about the eavesdropping because they _really _didn't want the girls to know some of the things they were talking about**

**Well, chapter three will be up as soon as I finish writing it. Hopefully soon, but I'm not sure.**

**Review as you leave.**


	3. Chapter 3: Lucy and the Voice

**A/N: In case you haven't noticed, I am the slowest updater ever. And this chapter took forever, so I just... ended it and uploaded it.**

**Sorry if it is subpar; definitely not my best work, but certainly not my worst.**

**And to my wonderful reviewers helikesthemikey, the Geeky Little Piano Girl, Snowy, Juliet, BigTimeGleekBTR, Lyrameadows43 (my cousin), Spooky Melissa, Princess Silverstar, and Terrawick: You are so amazingly awesome. You inspire me to continue, and it is a big help to get feedback! Thanks so much!**

**Don't own the Chronicles of Narnia. C.S. Lewis does.**

Chapter Three: Lucy and the Voice

Lucy stared, her eyes wide as saucers, at her older sister who wasn't afraid of anything, who was invincible and the bravest, most wonderful person in Narnia (excluding Aslan), who never cried and was always strong, who was lying on the ground. She was crying, sobbing, and Susan was too, crying and sobbing. She was pale, pale white, dimly lit and covered in soot, her beautiful golden hair singed.

Lucy didn't know, couldn't understand, what would have made Lilliandil, the bravest person ever, so scared, so sad. It made her sad, too, though she didn't understand why. Where was Mummy, to hold Lily? Why wasn't Daddy here, to put the fire out? Why was Susan, the second-most wonderful, the second-bravest, the first-smartest person in Narnia (excluding Aslan), yelling? Had Lilliandil done something wrong again? Why was the house burning? Why was Lily so white and pale? Was she hurt?

Why wasn't she _moving? _

Lucy didn't understand, and she longed to ask Susan, but Susan was sad too, and she thought it was because Lily was sleeping. Why was Lily sleeping when the house was burning? Was Lily hurt? Was she okay? What happened?

"Mr. Tumnus, Lucy," Susan croaked, her throat dry from the smoke. "Get Mr. Tumnus! Now! Bring him here!"

"But Mummy said I'm not allowed to go into the woods by myself!" Lucy whimpered innocently, not knowing that what Mummy said had no real effect anymore. At the word 'mummy', Susan looked broken, her blue eyes misty with tears.

"It doesn't m-matter! M-mummy left me in charge, and... I- I.. Just do it, Lucy! Do it _now!" _There was a sort of desperation in Susan's tone that scared Lucy, for she had never heard it before, but she knew it meant something was very, _very _wrong, and that Susan needed Lucy to help her.

Lucy ran away, away from the fiery beacon in the now-night sky and into the darkness of the woods. She was scared, yes, scared. So very scared. _Be brave, dear one. _A Voice whispered in her mind. The Voice sounded like life. She couldn't explain it, but it was the laugh of a child, the chirp of a songbird, the rush of a river, the crash of an ocean's wave, the gentle hum of a mother's voice, the rustle of wind through leaves, and the roar of a Lion. Having such an all-sounding Voice in her head was very overwhelming for Lucy, and she promptly burst into tears, even though she knew the Voice-almost certainly the Great Aslan Himself- was gentle and meant her no harm.

With courage and a determination she hadn't known she'd possessed, but she was sure had been a gift from Aslan, Lucy ran through the trees, tracing by memory the path she'd taken with her sisters and parents more times than she could count to Tumnus's house.

Tumnus the Faun, whom the girls called Mr. Tumnus even though Tumnus only had one name, and did not necessarily warrant the need for being called mister (Lilliandil had gone through a phase that no one could really understand when she was three or four years old in which she called all males 'Mr.', including her own father), lived in a house built into a cliff. The house was small, and smelled of tea and tobacco, which Lucy liked.

Lucy ran up to the door, banging her fist against its wood feverishly. She was so absorbed in 'knocking' on the door that she almost hit Tumnus in the stomach. The sight of a familiar grown up who wasn't scared or unconscious was such a relief for poor little Lucy that she burst into tears and hugged him fiercely around the neck (he was a short faun, and she _had _jumped), sobbing into his bare shoulder. Tumnus was very surprised, for one does not expect a lone seven-year-old girl, especially Lucy Pevensie, to turn up at your door in the late evening.

"Lucy? What in the name of- What are you _doing _here?" Tumnus asked, seizing the little girl by her shoulders to calm her, staring her straight in her blue, tear-filled eyes.

She whimpered, gulping helplessly, but began gesturing wildly towards the general direction of Ramandu's house where her sisters were.

"Where are your parents? Your sisters?" Tumnus probed, and Lucy burst into tears.

"I d-don't know where Mummy and Papa are. But L-lily is h-hurt and S-susan told me to g-get help and the house is on f-fire and I d-don't know w-what's g-going on, Mr. T-t-tumnus. Please h-help us. _Please!"_

"Alright, calm down," Tumnus reached into his house and grabbed a scarf that he always wore no matter the season. He pushed Lucy into the house, gently but with urgency. "Bolt the door, and unless it's me or your sisters, don't open it to _anyone." _ He looked so serious that Lucy's panic intensified, and she only could nod her head numbly. He shut the door, and she did as he asked.

Lucy had always liked Tumnus's house. It had more books than her house, and Tumnus would sometimes play his flute for her and Susan. Lilliandil had only once come to Tumnus's house, with Helen, Lucy, and Susan. On that one visit, Lilliandil had managed to set the rug on fire and break Mr. Tumnus's second-best china. Helen had been furious, and though Tumnus had insisted that Lilliandil had meant no harm and that there was nothing to forgive, he was never as warm with the full-star as he was with her sisters. And besides, Helen had been so horrified and embarrassed that she never allowed Lilliandil to set foot in Tumnus's house ever again, if she could help it. In fact, Helen was reluctant to allow the eldest Pevensie daughter to go to anyone's house where there might be cause for damaged property.

This being said, trips to Tumnus's house had always been a special treat shared between Susan, Lucy, and their mother. Sometimes they would go into Beaversdam after Helen had met with Tumnus and buy peppermint candies, and run errands around the town, perhaps paying the Beavers a visit on their way home. To Lucy, the special little excursions were precious, and she took them very seriously. They were something sacred, part of the bond between Susan and Lucy; the fact that they could both be enamored by the little things in life as Lilliandil couldn't made them more than sisters. It made them friends.

Thinking of how happy she had been then made the present less scary, less overwhelming as it had been before. Sitting in an armchair by Mr. Tumnus's fireplace and twiddling her thumbs idly, Lucy was constantly looking at the door as if expecting it to see her parents waltzing through the door at any moment, ushering words of comfort and assurance.

Lucy knew, somewhere in the deepest depths of her heart, that she could wait in Tumnus's drawing room forever and never see Ramandu or Helen walk through the door. However, knowing something, and accepting that something is true are two different things. Lucy could not, would not think something so terrible, no matter how much she could feel it was true, .

Eventually, though, Tumnus knocked on the door. Lucy looked through the peephole on the door, and after recognizing the faun, let him in. In he came, half-dragging, half-carrying an unconscious Lilliandil with Susan barely helping, but following in a tearful daze.

"Susan!" Lucy yelled, launching at her sister. Susan barely responded, simply gripping her younger sister tightly.

"Lu... Lucy, it's Mother and Father, Lucy. They're dead." Susan sobbed into Lucy's reddish brown hair. Lucy stood stock-still, her blue eyes widening almost comically.

"W-what?" She whispered, swallowing an almost painful lump in her throat.

"Don't m-make me s-s-say it again, Lu," Susan's lip trembled. "Let's just g-go to sleep, alright?" She lead Lucy into Tumnus's spare bedroom (it held a lot of Ramandu's old things because at one point the star had been kicked out by Helen, and before by Philippa, temporarily moving in with Tumnus until he was forgiven). After Tumnus practically threw Lilliandil onto the bed (she was tall for her age, and he wasn't getting any younger) and left the room with a faint "Good night," Susan removed Lucy's cloak and shoes and tucked her into bed. She repeated the process with her elder sister, before removing her own cloak and shoes and climbing into bed after them. She found that she had no tears left to cry, but that Lilliandil was steadily crying in her sleep. Susan closed her eyes, and willed herself to fall asleep and to forget the world where she was an orphan.

Let it be said that none of the Pevensie sister slept at all well that night. They tossed and turned; Liliandil with nightmares of how she imagined her parents' deaths to be, each time getting more horrible than the last; Susan with dreams of being burned alive in the fire; Lucy with running through the smoky forest towards voices screaming her name.

None of them woke up until the dawn the next day; and when they did, they wished they hadn't, because they had experienced the worst sort of nightmare: the kind of nightmare that exists in reality, too.

**A/N: Don't expect an update for a while. I'm a slow writer. **

**Review on your way out.**


	4. Chapter 4: Tumnus, Gossip, and Carriages

**a/n: The creativity bug bit me, so now you have Chapter 4! **

**Thanks to all those who reviewed! You are amazing, as always! And to those who put me on story alert, thank you! **

**And... the boys make an appearance! *cue applause* Not until the very end, but they show up.**

******I reloaded this to clear something up that Daughter of sea and wisdom pointed out: this is a Peter/Susan story. In the summary, it says S/P/RD/C, implying a love triangle (square?) between Lilliandil/Peter/Susan, with Caspian thrown in later. Don't be alarmed by the Ramandu's Daughter/Peter-ness of the next couple of chapters.**

**Review on your way out, if you have time!**

Chapter Four: Tumnus, Gossip, and Carriages

Lucy shifted in her sleep when cold feet rubbed along her bare shins, disrupting a peacefully warm slumber. Groaning loudly, she blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The bed she had shared with her sisters was a sorry sight; blankets and sheets were in a tangle at the bottom of the bed, and all the pillows were on the floor. Susan was asleep still; though her eyes were closed, a trail of tear tracks led from the corners of her eyes to her brown hair. Lucy was confused for a moment, beforethe events of the previous night hit her all at once like a ton of bricks. She gasped for air, tears bursting from her eyes. Next to her, Susan sat up stock-still, and placed a comforting arm around Lucy.

"Hush, now. It's all right. Shh..." She smoothed Lucy's hair as she had seen Helen do numerous times before.

"W-Where's Lily?" Lucy asked, looking at the empty indent in the bed where Tumnus had unceremoniously dumped her the previous night. Susan frowned, and looked around.

"There." Susan gestured towards the window seat. Lilliandil was fast asleep, her face pressed up against the glass rather unattractively. "Lil. Lily. Wake up!" Susan threw one of the pillows on the floor at her sister. Lilliandil jerked awake, causing Lucy to giggle slightly.

"There weren't any stars last night," she said, causing the other two to sober up immediately. "Dad and Mum... I told her she wasn't my mother! The last thing I ever said to her... She d-d-died thinking I h-h-hated her."

"Oh, Lily, that's not true." Susan crawled off the bed and joined her elder sister on the window seat, pulling Lilliandil into a hug. Lucy scrambled to join them, and for a moment, there was silence. Until Susan, always the practical one, interrupted it. "What are we going to do? We don't have paren-I mean, we don't have a place to live."

The other two pulled away from her and exchanged a thoughtful look. "We could live with Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy suggested brightly.

"We shouldn't impose..." Susan dismissed, wrinkling her pale forehead in thought. "What about the Beavers? They've always liked us."

"There are three of us, and they live in a _dam. _Made of _sticks. _It'd be like living in a sardine can." Lilliandil said, making Susan roll her eyes in exasperation.

"What about...the Parksons?" Susan continued.

"Your mother's family? I doubt they know we exist. And besides, Lu and I aren't related to them." Lilliandil shook her head.

"Well, if you're going to shoot down _every _bloody idea I have, _you _come up with a place!" Susan shouted. Lilliandil shushed her, motioning towards the door.

"_Hush! _You'll wake Mr. Tumnus!" Lilliandil chastised. Lucy's mouth dropped open; it was very out of character for _Lilliandil _to scold _Susan. _Susan looked sheepishly at the door, a little embarrassed at being scolded. She was the family goody-goody, after all.

"What about Mummy's sister Alberta?" Lucy suggested innocently. Her older sisters whipped their heads around at her simultaneously.

"Aunt _Alberta?" _ They gasped out together.

"I'd only seek help from _that _woman when we really have _no other _options!" Lilliandil said, completely seriously. She looked out the window, "But seriously, maybe we could...we could ask Mr. Tumnus to...you know..." Lilliandil waved her hand to continue her train of thought.

"...take us in?" Susan finished for her.

Lilliandil nodded. "But not me. It has to be someone he likes." And simultaneously, the two older girls turned towards Lucy. It was odd; though their faces were anything but identical, they wore the same grin that one gets when one has a brilliant idea.

"Say, Lu... Do you think you could ask Mr. Tumnus if-" Lilliandil began, before she was cut off.

"...I would take you three in?" Tumnus continued for her. They gasped loudly in surprise.

"Orion's belt, Mr. Tumnus! You scared us!" Susan said, clutching her forehead. He laughed out his apologies in his slightly goaty way (it was sort of like bleating, although no one ever pointed this out).

"You should say 'Aslan's mane', Su," Lucy corrected. "He wouldn't like it, those star curses." Susan waved her away absently, becoming fascinated with her bare feet.

"So...since you brought it up..." Lilliandil grabbed the slightly singed end of her long yellow hair and began combing it out, her blue eyes glued to the strands intently. She often did this when she was uncomfortable, like some people bit their nails or chewed their hair. "...would it be at all...possible..."

"I promised your father I'd take care of you if anything ever happened to him. Of course, one hopes that one will never have to be taken up on such a promise, but... I will honor my word to your father." Mr. Tumnus said tiredly. Lucy jumped up and hugged him around the waist, crying into his stomach.

"Thank you, sir." Lilliandil said (she hadn't forgotten the incident with the carpet). Tumnus nodded at her over Lucy's head solemnly. She got up, and hugged him too. She was happy that they at least had a home. Susan pressed her face to the glass, internally lamenting the loss of life; not just of her father and stepmother, but of life as she knew it.

"I'll...just go make some...uh, tea." Tumnus said, quickly turning away as he too began to tear up. He hurriedly left the room, leaving the girls alone. Lilliandil turned to Lucy and bent down to the younger girl's level.

"We'll have a jolly good time, Lu. You'll see. The three of us. Like...the three musketeers, or something." Lilliandil courageously attempted to put on a brave face; Susan thought she failed miraculously, but Lucy bought the façade, and that was all that mattered. Lucy nodded, biting her lip and hugging her eldest sister.

"Aslan spoke to me last night." Lucy mumbled into Lilliandil's shoulder. Lilliandil shared a look over Lucy's shoulder at Susan; Susan shook her head slightly. Lilliandil nodded, and smoothed over Lucy's hair.

"I'm sure he did, love. It's going to be all right. I promise." Lilliandil awkwardly patted her on the back; comforting wasn't her strong suit. The full-star exchanged a second look with Susan over Lucy's sweet reddish-brown-haired head; nothing was going to be the same, ever. But Aslan willing, they'd make it through. They had to.

Five years passed faster than one would expect. Tumnus was in and out most of the time, as one of his (seemingly hundreds of) relatives needed his immediate help here or there exceedingly often; or at least, that was what he told them. Whatever his actual reasons for his frequent travels were, the girls were often left on their own.

Consequently, Susan and Lilliandil raised themselves, and together, they raised Lucy (although it was really Susan who did the actual child-rearing; Lilliandil conveniently disappeared whenever the going got tough, and left her younger sister to deal with Lucy). They taught her whatever they thought she needed to know; Lilliandil taught her astrology, astronomy, and history; Susan taught her language, arithmetic, algebra, sciences, vocabulary (Lucy for the life of her could never remember the word 'gastro-vascular', referring to blood vessels of the stomach), etiquette, sewing, cooking, and how to keep a house. Later in life, Lilliandil would claim that she taught Lucy physics, although Susan told her that 'that stupid vine thing' did _not _count as an experiment.

As for the girls themselves, well, they grew into intriguing young women. At sixteen, Lilliandil was a radiant star, and so intimidatingly beautiful that men often fell over themselves whenever she was near. At fifteen, Susan grew up into a fashionable and beautiful young woman with the attention of many men and a loyal entourage of dimwitted girls. As for Lucy, by the time she reached her eleventh birthday, her hair had grown longer and more brown. She was taller. Her waist was perhaps more defined; her childishly round face perhaps a little slimmer. But other than that, Ramandu's third daughter was rather unremarkable. She was eleven, and hit the standard pubescent stage of awkwardness that her sisters had both somehow avoided. Don't get me wrong, she was sweetly pretty in a non-conventional sort of way. Of course, no one ever noticed this; after all, no star shines when the sun is out, no matter how prettily it would have twinkled on its own.

However, Susan and Lilliandil's extremely different personalities caught up to them. Without the mediator of their parents to settle disputes, and with the more adult-like responsibilities of actually _raising _their little sister, the two became significantly less close. They fought very often, usually provoked by some little thing, but the argument very nearly _always _escalated until it was unclear exactly what they were fighting about; usually, the fights symbolized the resentment Susan felt at being left to deal with 'the dirty work' and Lilliandil's growing restlessness and wanderlust. The arguments circled back to how much Lilliandil wanted to leave behind the sad memories of Beaversdam, and how afraid Susan was that if she left, she would forget.

Either way, they had reached a stalemate where they were just so fed up with each other they didn't even feel like fighting with one another. This brief period of peace was often referred to by Lucy as the 'calm before the storm'. And Lucy's wording, cliché as it was, was right.

While Tumnus was away, Lilliandil kept a steady job as a barmaid at the local tavern, the Lion's Claw; Susan worked as a part-time governess for a wealthy family with six children; and Lucy kept herself busy most of the time, with a small, yappy (though Dumb) white dog she could carry around to keep her company. Things were good. Things were stable, if not happy. Susan liked things this way; of course, it appeared that whenever the dust of change settled around Susan, Life threw her for a loop.

Perhaps if King Frank hadn't chosen _that _summer to send his two sons to their summer home in the Lantern Waste, we wouldn't have a story. But he did; and we do.

So, while our favorite star-blooded sisters were struggling with early adulthood, the princes of Narnia were living a charmed life. King Frank was a good king; he was fair, sometimes to the point of lenience, and he had a quick-temper. But he spoiled his two sons: Peter and Edmund.

Peter had been a charming child, complete with dimples and a mop of golden hair. He wasn't really spoilt; he was kind and strong-willed, a born leader, and as he grew into manhood, it was widely believed that he would be a better king than his father. However, he was frightfully inexperienced and naive. This was not really his fault; it was also one of the ruses his father used to send him away.

Edmund, on the other hand, lived in the shadow of his older brother. He was dark and brooding, and felt neglected. He hid his loneliness behind a disguise of disdainful animosity and snide sarcasm and general rudeness that made everyone less willing to approach him. This really bit his in his behind, because it made his brother even more wonderful by comparison. Thus, Edmund was even more rude and contemptuous, and being around him even when he was in a good mood was rather unpleasant.

When Peter was eleven and Edmund was nine, their mother, the beautiful Archenlandish Queen Helen, died from food poisoning at the celebration of her and her husband's fifteenth wedding anniversary. Or, everyone told _Peter _it was food poisoning. _Poisoning _being the key word, if you catch my drift. After Helen's death, Edmund was pushed further into the shadows as Peter was pushed even further into the limelight. And all the while, King Frank grew less and less lucid with grief for his beloved wife.

Perhaps that is the reason King Frank sent his sons away to the Lion Paw estate, but one cannot be sure of these things.

Whatever King Frank's reasons for sending his sons away were, he did send his sons away, and they arrived in the nearby city of Beaversdam.

The people of Beaversdam had heard, as news of that sort tends to travel faster than wildfire, that the princes of Narnia were traveling to the little-used summer home in the sort-of near Lantern Waste. Susan and her entourage were out doing who-knew-what, and Lilliandil took Lucy and her yappy little dog whose real name was Morning Glory (after the way his white fur shone gold in the morning), but was often called 'Wolf' (given by Susan after he chewed through half her shoes) and 'Mutt' (given by Lilliandil after Morning Glory left her a present in her bed) to get bread. But back on the subject of our dear canine friend Morning Glory: he _was _a rather cute dog and therefore new how to charm women, so he was forgiven by Lucy's elder sisters even if they pretended he was not.

"Come on, Lu, bring that stupid mutt of yours in here; tips were tight last night, and I might need to get a discount. You know how Mrs. Wimworthy likes him," Lilliandil said, walking briskly toward Wimworthy's Bakery with some of Tumnus's numerous packages (just because he was out of town didn't mean he didn't get any mail). Lucy scrambled to keep up with Lilliandil, her tiny white dog clutched in her arms.  
><em>"<em>He's_ not_ a mutt!" Lucy defended her dog vehemently. "And he's _not_ stupid! His name is _Morning Glory_!"

"Could've fooled me," Lilliandil muttered under her breath. She turned around, and seeing Lucy a little too far behind, called over her shoulder: "Hurry up, Lu!"

"All right! I'm coming!" Lucy caught up to her sister, and Morning Glory yapped happily upon seeing the full-star.

"Save it, mutt." Lilliandil wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"I'm coming," Lucy said as she followed her eldest sister into Wimworth's Baked Goods. Mrs. Wimworth, who ran the shop, was an elderly, gossip-mongering faun lady who tended to talk about people as if they weren't even there.

The bells tinkled when Lucy opened the door, drawing Mrs. Wimworth and her blabbermouth friends, a loud-mouthed dryad called Freya, and a Talking cat named Mistress Furclaws from the depths of a storeroom.

"Why, if it isn't Ramandu's little daughter!" Mrs. Wimworth exclaimed upon seeing Lilliandil. The star's daughter rolled her eyes; it seemed that no matter how often she reminded people of her name, it was never remembered. Even by her parents and sisters, she had been called pet names and the nickname 'Lily'. After a while, Lilliandil had given up on reminding people of her name. Perhaps it was because Lirandil had given Lilliandil a star's name; after all, no one really ever said Lirandil's actual name.

"Good day, Mrs. Wimworth," Lilliandil answered pleasantly.

"Oh, and you've brought little Lucy!" Mrs. Wimworth said. "Where's young miss Susan?" Not waiting for an answer, Mrs Wimworth continued prattling to Freya. "You met that father of theirs? Handsomest man I ever did see! And a star, no less. And that pretty little wife of his. Most beautiful woman this side of the moon! What was her name, again?"

"Lirandil?" Lilliandil supplied, looking at her nails in a bored way. Lucy placed Morning Glory onto the floor and rolled him over, whispering bits of baby talk to the dog.

"Yes, that was it! Well, I reckon you look just like your dear old Mum, don't you?" Mrs. Wimworth told Lilliandil, looking her up and down.

"Well, I didn't know her-"

"I remember her! Men fallin' to pieces over that lass!" Mistress Furclaws interrupted, nodding her grizzled cat head enthusiastically. "Practic'ly gotta chain that woman to the floor t' keep her hangin' 'round!"

"That Ramandu never could keep a woman, could he? I remember that Parkson girl! Oh, a bellyacher if ever there was one!" Freya said. At the mention of Philippa, the beady eyes of Mrs. Wimworth and Mistress Furclaws exchanged a look. That sort of we-know-something-you-don't look. Lilliandil and Lucy exchanged a when-will-this-be-over look.

"That Philippa Parkson wasn't just a bellyacher, if ya catch my drift, Mistress Freya," Mistress Furclaws implied. "Well, my cousin's wife's nephew's friend's brother's girlfriend saw her gallivanting in the river with that duke person who passed through town, less than a year before Miss Susan was born." Freya gasped dramatically, and Mrs. Wimworth nodded sadly as if this fifteen-year-old piece of gossip was a terrible tragedy.

"Excuse me-" Lilliandil attempted to interrupt, but they ignored her.

"Are you saying that Miss Susan-Susan Pevensie! - is a-?" Freya trailed off, but everyone (except Lucy) knew the rest of her question. Lilliandil began to glow as she always did when she was getting angry.

"I'm nearly positive!" Mistress Furclaws confirmed. Freya gasped again.

"'tis a shame, though," Mrs. Wimworth said sadly. "That Susan is a beauty, just like her mum was; and not in that creepy star way that sort of made your hair stand up (Just unnatural, that!); normal beauty. Like a princess."

"That girl could catch a king if she wanted!" Freya said, slightly enviously.

"Amen to that." The others echoed solemnly.

"Well, Philippa Parkson was a pain in the arse to have around! Complainin' about this and that, all the time, nonstop! I suppose your sister's the same way?" Freya returned the conversation to Susan's dead mother's whining habits. After being addressed by Freya, Lilliandil opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off again by Mrs. Wimworth.

"And that Helen! Smart as they come-"

"The professor's daughter, right?" Mistress Furclaws inquired.

"-but the poor thing couldn't hold a candle to those other women. Really, it's a miracle she landed a man at all, let alone a star with Ramandu's history with beautiful women!"

"Dad had a romantic history?" Lilliandil asked, for a moment incredulous.

"I swear, you young people get ruder and ruder every day! Didn't that star mother of yours teach you not to interrupt?" Mrs. Wimworth snapped. Lilliandil backed away hurriedly.

"But that daughter of hers," Freya 'lowered' her voice to a normal volume in order to keep it from Lucy's ears. "Sweet as they come, but plain as a-" unable to find a suitable simile, she cut off. At this point, Lucy was crying steadily.

"Unfortunate, but true. Plain, plain, plain. How a star like that Ramandu could produce a daughter like Lucy is beyond-" Mrs. Wimworth began.

"Are you done insulting my family so I can buy my damn bread?" Lilliandil shrieked. The women jumped and turned to her. They immediately shielded their eyes from the angry star's light.

"Well, I never!"

"The nerve!"

"Young people these days!"

"Shut up, you spiteful old prunes!" Lilliandil shouted, her starlight positively blinding. "You know what? I'm taking my business to _other _bakeries! And I'm telling Susan to tell her friends to buy their bread at other shops! I know I most _certainly _will _not _come to a place where you insult defenseless children, especially not my own sisters. And Susan is most certainly _not _a bastard, thank you very much! You are just a bunch of a hateful crones who feel so badly about yourselves, you feel the petty and insecure need to bring down people who can't defend themselves. As long as I have breath in my body, your hurtful tongues won't tarnish the memories of _my _parents or the reputations of my sisters! And," Lilliandil glowed impossibly bright to prove her point, "that _Lucy's _just as pretty as I am!"

Let it be said that this was the only time that Matilda Gertrude Wimworthy was ever rendered completely speechless in living memory.

Triumphant, Lilliandil turned to Lucy, who was whimpering, and Morning Glory, who was cowering. "Come on, Lu; I'd chose you and your stupid mutt for company over _these _hags any day. Feel free to quote me on it." She ushered Lucy out of the shop without a backward glance, although she was mentally damning them to Tash.

Once she and Lucy had moved fifty feet from the bakery, Lilliandil let out a frustrated scream. "People like that are the bane of existence! How could someone hold so much hate they'd want to hurt you or Su?" She turned around to face Lucy, who was crying steadily. "You know what they said was a lie. Everything. They had no right to say any of that about you, or Su, or Mum, or Dad, or my mother or Susan's mum, or anybody! Implying that Philippa was an adulteress, and Susan a bastard, and Dad a cuckold? Su's our sister, and we have the same father! What were they _saying? _That Dad couldn't keep a woman? How dare they imply that my sister- _my _sister!- was... _ugly?"_

Lucy burst into tears, and Lilliandil pulled her to her chest in a hug. "It's not true. Not a bit of it. Beauty is a stupid thing. It's not what really matters, let me tell you. It kind of stinks to be beautiful. No, really," she said, when Lucy didn't believe her. "It actually is on the insides that counts. Mark my words, you'll find a boy who will be with me and Su but he'll only see you. I promise."

"Really?" Lucy looked up, her tearstained face full of hope, but with a shadow of doubt that Lilliandil hated instantly.

She smiled widely at Lucy. "I promise. Say, Lu, what're all those people doing down there?" She pointed a slender finger down at the main road were a crowd was gathered. Lucy shrugged, and, with Morning Glory clutched in her arms, took of towards the people, with Lilliandil scrambling to keep up.

Lucy pushed through the people to the front of the crowd, looking down the street in the direction that people were pointing. Lucy gasped in awe at the most magnificent golden coach bouncing along the cobblestone street, pulled by the biggest white horses she'd ever seen. They pulled the carriage with harnesses and reigns with elegant silver tassels, moving precariously fast. Lilliandil caught up behind her and said, "I've heard- it's the very Crown Prince of Narnia! They're going to that mansion on Lion Crest Hill."

"What mansion?" Lucy asked, looking up at her sister as if she had gone mad. Lilliandil looked down at Lucy with much the same expression. Taking Lucy's jaw in her hand, Lilliandil gently turned her sister's head until she saw the spectacular mansion on the crest of a hill in the nearer distance.

"Oh. _That _mansion." Lucy said, supposing that she had seen it so often she didn't notice it anymore.

"Look! Here it comes!" Lilliandil shook Lucy's arm, and Lucy gasped so loudly, she dropped Morning Glory, who scampered off into the direction of the coming horses, and began nipping at their hooves. Lucy rushed out after the dog in a frenzy, and Lilliandil glowed so brightly out of fear that the horses spooked affectively.

People gasped as Lucy raced right in front of the carriage just as the horses reared above her head. Lucy let out a short scream before she was knocked to the ground by a surprisingly strong running leap from her sister. For a moment, Lucy still anticipated the fall of the horse's hooves on her skull, before realizing she was safe and unharmed. But Lilliandil had twisted her ankle and it was now swelling up, purple and blue.

"Lucy! Are you all right? Tell me you're okay!" Lilliandil checked her sister over for injuries, more than a little panicked.

"I'm fine, Lil; but you! You're hurt!" Lucy said, noticing her sister's ankle.

"It's nothing; help me up." Lucy attempted to pull Lilliandil up from the ground, but her sister yelped when weight was put on her hurt leg.

"Miss, are you all right?" A raven cawed to Lilliandil.

"A little bruised, but- oh, sweet Aslan, Lu, don't touch it!" Lilliandil shouted when Lucy prodded to her ankle to see if it was broken.

"I am Sallowpad, representative of the king in this good town of Beaversdam, and chief caretaker to his Highness-" the Raven said importantly.

"Sallowpad, is she all right?" A kind-sounding voice asked. A boy with golden hair and strikingly blue eyes appeared next to Lilliandil. "Hello, miss. I'm Prince Peter. Please, allow me to take you and your sister to see my private healer; after all, it was my carriage that almost ran you over. I'm Peter, by the way," He stuck out a hand to her, and she looked down at it as if he were crazy.

"Oh, you shake it," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?" Lilliandil asked, confused.

"Well, I-I don't know!" He confessed, and she laughed slightly. "People do it when they meet each other."

"Lilliandil," she told him, shaking his hand left and right. He laughed a little.

"Well, Miss Dill," he said, seemingly because he'd heard her name as 'Lillian Dill', which had happened before. "Let me help you." He very gently assisted her into the coach, and Lucy, having secured Morning Glory, followed dutifully after, with Sallowpad flying in behind them. A freckled-faced, dark-haired boy was sleeping in the corner, miraculously undisturbed by the hullabaloo going on around him.

"That's Edmund," Prince Peter clarified as the carriage started up again. "My brother." He looked at Lilliandil, sitting slightly rigid on what was undoubtedly the finest cushion she'd seen in her life. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, you know that?"

"Your highness..." Sallowpad cautioned.

"Thank you, your highness," Lilliandil said politely, slightly embarrassed.

"_Peter." _ Peter corrected with a smile.

"_Peter." _Lilliandil tried it out tentatively, for once thinking it was not _so _very terrible to be so beautiful.

**a/n: the longest chapter yet at 4,352 words and 10 pages. Review, and tell me what you think!**

**And please, don't expect an update in a while! (slow writer, remember?) Have a good week!**


	5. In Which Lily Flirts and Lucy Swims

**A/N: An early Christmas/Holiday present to you all! And, I know that parts of it are supposed to be 3****rd**** person limited, but they're more 3****rd**** Omniscient, so I'm sorry about that…**

**Fun Fact: Originally, this chapter took off right from the carriage ride, but I found that there was really nothing engaging about the carriage ride, and I didn't want to make up a full dialogue chapter; because, if you hadn't noticed, exposition is more my forte. And, Susan is the other "main character" in this story (Lucy, Susan, and Lilliandil are the protagonists, although won't let me pick all three…) I thought she deserved some time in the limelight. So, she gets a bit of a narrative here. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own the Chronicles of Narnia. Obviously.**

**Enjoy, and review on your way out!**

"Where _are _they?" Susan Pevensie was wearing a hole in the half-burned rug of Tumnus's living room, turning her head from Tumnus's five cuckoo clocks (his relatives sent him useless junk whenever they could, remember?) to the door and back again so violently that her perfect curls were sent askew. She looked at her wristwatch, and sighed. Lilliandil and Lucy had yet to make an appearance, and now Susan was late for her dinner out with her friends, and she was _not _happy about it. She looked over at the table she had found the time to polish and set in the time between the present (nearly nine of the clock!) and the time her sisters _should _have returned home from the market.

Bored out of her mind, and sensing that her sisters could still be a while, Susan began to sort through one of the cupboards, organizing Tumnus's clutter alphabetically by use. Her mind was on what sort of story she should read to the children she was a governess for, the Poles, the eldest of whom was a girl a year younger than Lucy. Susan was about to decide between 'East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon' and 'the Sleeping Beauty', Lucy and Lilliandil's favorite fairy-tales respectively, when she came across a box labelled _R. P. _It was printed in elegant, curved golden script across the dusty surface. Filled with an unbidden yet strangely Lucy-like curiosity, Susan pulled it out of the cupboard, dislodging several piles of Tumnus's who-knew-what, which spread across the floor. She ignored them, and was about to open it, when— her sisters conveniently strolled through the door. Susan dropped the box, and jumped up hurriedly, whirling around to face them.

She placed her hands on her hips, her face angry. "Where _were _you?" She demanded, but was rather annoyed at the results: Lucy, soaking wet and shivering, wrapped in a towel or two, was babbling on about what they had been doing as fast as she possibly could, and Lilliandil had staggered against a wall, where she was staring into space, a dreamy smile and a dazed expression on her face.

"I had the most wonderful time!" Lilliandil sighed as Lucy gushed.

"We went to town, and I almost got run over—"

"Why on _earth _are you so wet, Lucy?"

"—by a carriage and we met Prince Peter and he liked Lily and took her to his manor to get her ankle fixed and then we had dinner there with Sallowpad and Prince Edmund snores, did you know?" Lucy said in one breath, continuing without pause as if Susan had not spoken at all.

Susan closed her eyes in exasperation. "_Lucy! _Why-"

"And then Edmund and I became friends and we climbed over the wall and almost drowned, and-"

"One game at a time, Lu; we don't all have your imagination, you know." Lucy's mouth opened and closed for a moment, before she replied. In the meantime, Susan looked at Lilliandil, who hadn't moved since she had walked in, and appeared to be somewhere far, far away.

"But I wasn't imagining!" Lucy insisted just as Susan was about to turn on their elder sister, who had begun to hum under her breath.

"That's enough, Lucy," Susan told her in a warning tone, clapping her hands in front of Lilliandil's face. "Wake up, Dolly Daydream!" Lilliandil's goofy grin spread across her face, and she looked up at Susan with a head-in-the-clouds expression on her face.

"I wouldn't lie about this!" Lucy was trying to be obstinate and calm in her defense of herself, but she found that she was rapidly on the way to tears; it didn't matter, really, because for all her effort, she was ignored.

"Are you drunk?" Susan had asked Lilliandil with a sigh that seemed too old for her.

"No," Lilliandil said, somewhat seriously.

"Su-_san, _why won't you bel-" Lucy tugged on Susan's arm to try to get her attention rather fruitlessly.

"Not _now, _Lucy!" Susan was still focused on Lilliandil, whose blue eyes were still slightly dazed. "Where's the bread?" Susan asked, finding not a single parcel among the two of them and crossing her arms in a stern fashion.

"Bread?" Lilliandil asked, a bit dreamy still. "What bread?"

"The bread you were supposed be buying!" Susan was beyond frustrated at this point.

"Oh. _That _bread. I forgot, sorry." Lilliandil said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Where _were _you?" Susan asked her sister again.

"I told you. We went to town to get the bread, and then Mrs. Wimworth was rather rude-"

"She was just _mean," _Lucy added. "She said you were-"

"Lucy, there's a time when you should know to stop talking." Lilliandil cut her off warningly. Susan raised an eyebrow, part suspicious, part bemused. "She was rude, yes, and then we were almost run over by a carriage because the stupid mutt-"

"Where _is _Wolf, anyway, Lucy?" Susan asked, uncrossing her arms and looking around for the dog. Lucy and Lilliandil followed suit with confused expressions on our faces.

"He was in the carriage with us..." Lucy attempted to backtrack to the last time she'd seen her dog.

"We must have left him at Lion's Paw, the mutt!" Lilliandil said a bit too brightly at the opportunity to be legitimately annoyed.

"Why were you at Lion's Paw, Lil?" Susan's eyes narrowed before she gazed at the cuckoo clocks again, causing her to bounce up and down in impatience. She was very late for her outing, and appeared ready to bolt for the door at any moment.

"The carriage that almost ran us over? The _prince _of Narnia was riding in it! _Both _of them!" Lilliandil told her excitedly, seizing her sister's pale hands in a halfhearted effort to make Susan calm down.

"The prince? Really?" Susan asked, slight disbelief etched into her perfect features.

"I _told _you I wasn't imagining!" Lucy shouted, her round face red with indignation. She stamped her foot for good measure, but neither of her sisters paid her any heed.

"Well, prince or not, I'm _very _late, for a _very _important date!" Susan said, grabbing her moneybag and cloak, rushing out the door. She slammed it so hard behind her that a gust of wind ruffled her sisters' hair. The two left stood there for a moment, awkwardly acknowledging the other's company before Lilliandil broke the tension.

"Well, I'm off to sleep, Lu," Lilliandil didn't wait for an answer, instead turning around and humming an obnoxious tune under her breath. The evening was rather like a blur for her, and the world was still spinning from her encounter with Peter.

_"You're a star, aren't you?" Peter helped her out of the carriage like a gentleman, heeding her swollen ankle._

_"Well spotted," Lilliandil laughed, Lucy following behind her. Sallowpad and Edmund, the sleeping brother, followed after her, with Edmund still fast asleep in the arms of a burly centaur. _

_"You've got this look in your eyes," Peter observed, his blue eyes roving over her face in a bit of a disconcerting way. "Like you don't… belong here, really. Like you need something greater."_

_"Like the sky?" He turned his head forward, watching the ground as he half-carried her into the manor._

_"Well, Sallowpad does say that the sky's the limit, but it may be different in the case of a star." Peter quipped to her, watching her out of the corner of his eyes for her reaction; he achieved Lilliandil's sparkly laugh, which made him smile a bit smugly._

_"Well, come on; I think the infirmary's this way, but it's been so long since I've been here, I've really no idea." Peter told her as he helped her up the stone steps through oak front doors twice as tall as her very tall father had been. Servants had lined up to greet Peter and Edmund, and bowed dutifully as they passed. Vaguely, Lilliandil heard Sallowpad being directed to the kitchens, where he planned on ordering a hot chocolate for Lucy, and Edmund was carried up to his bed, miraculously undisturbed._

_Peter proceeded to carry Lilliandil up the stairs (to which she was rather impressed; she wasn't exactly feather light, and there was _quite _the number of stairs) to the infirmary, which was overseen by a cherry-blossom dryad nurse. Lilliandil did not quite understand why they needed an infirmary in this little used summer home of the King, but she didn't question it._

_"Now, let's see what we've got here..." The dryad said as Peter set Lilliandil on the cot. He walked over to the door, leaning against the frame, watching the full-star with concern evident on his handsome face. "Ah, yes, a bit of a sprain, and maybe some bruising on the bone. Nothing a good week off your feet won't cure, dearie." The dryad pronounced after feeling the swollen ankle with her practiced hands._

_"Well, that was… a bit of a waste of time," Lilliandil said to Peter after thanking the dryad nurse and refusing his help, preferring to limp out of the room for her pride if nothing else. "You just carried me up those stairs for nothing."_

_"It wasn't for nothing!" Peter insisted, and she turned around to look pointedly at him. He looked down at the ground sheepishly, saying: "Now I have an excuse to ask you for dinner."_

_Slowly grinning, Lilliandil said: "Who am I to refuse the son of the King?"_

_"I don't know; but I'd sure like to find out," Peter told her, and Lilliandil blushed a slightly bluish color, true to her star heritage._

_Over the next few hours, Peter proceeded to give Lilliandil a tour of the manor, though he didn't know it very well himself, and kept repeatedly getting lost in its labyrinth of corridors. The whole time, Lilliandil clung to Peter's arm to 'steady herself', and exchanged a grin or two (or eight, she lost count) with him. She found herself growing increasingly fond of Peter with each minute she spent with him. They talked of everything, from philosophies and faith to favorite books to read. Peter was rather religious, having a firm belief in Aslan, which Lilliandil did not share (she wasn't unreligious; stars simply had a more pagan element of faith, with many lesser "deities", like constellations, as well as Aslan), but she told him he shared with Lucy. They compared younger siblings (Edmund and Susan were very alike in their annoying stubbornness, they found) and spoke of horseback riding and hobbies, and Lilliandil confided in him that she was secretly an accomplished tree-climber, and that Peter secretly wished to run away and make a career for himself in medicine. _

_Sometime during their time together, when, she was not sure exactly, it became clear to Lilliandil that she had gained a friend._

_They were having such a good time, in fact, that she barely noticed her sister, who was engaged in a largely one-sided shouting match with a handsome, pubescent dark-haired boy with a scowl marring his comely face. Although Lilliandil had only ever seen him peacefully asleep, she immediately recognized Prince Edmund. Lucy was really cowering away from him as he mocked her for one reason or another, and he was shouting at her. Lilliandil noticed, biting back a laugh, that Lucy's dog had left Edmund a present he had conveniently stepped in on his way to dinner._

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ed, calm down! Just take off your shoe and someone will clean it!" Peter left Lilliandil to calm his childish brother._

_"And step in another pile of bloody poop? Are you joking?" Edmund sneered, slightly incredulous at Peter's suggestion._

_"His poop was _bloody?"_ Lucy asked, missing Edmund's profanity in her concern for her dog's health._

_"No, you stupid yokel, it was a bloody swear!" Edmund cursed again, and Lucy clapped her hand to her mouth._

_"You shouldn't swear! And Morning Glory didn't mean anything, I promise!" Lucy apologized, glancing around for the dog aforementioned, who had conveniently vanished._

_"Morning Glory? What a stupid name, given by bloody dimwit." Edmund told her, and though Lilliandil agreed with bit about the name, she was filled with rage when the boy— prince or no— insulted her little sister. Her heart broke when Lucy ran away in tears from the snide-faced prince. And, prince or not, Lilliandil was not against punching the snot from his nose as any good big sister would in that situation._

_"Prince Edmund, she's our guest! Have you no manners?" Sallowpad, perched on the railing, squawked in reprimand._

_"No, not really," Edmund said, grinning at his rudeness._

_"Oh, will you just stop?" Peter said, clearly rather frustrated with his brother. "You've just got to make everything worse, don't you?"_

_"It was only a joke!" Edmund defended, his smirk slipping a little._

_"Go apologize to her, right now," Peter ordered, adding threateningly: "Or else."_

_"Or else, what? Your little girlfriend'll run out on you when she sees what a sissy you really are?" Edmund taunted, getting up in Peter's face. Peter pulled back his hand, about to hit his brother, Edmund recoiling away from him, when Lilliandil called out: "Don't hit him, Peter! Please, don't hit him."_

_Peter turned to her, sighed, and turned back to glare at his brother. "Thank Lilian for saving your scrawny hide, and go apologize to her sister!"_

_Edmund groaned, turning to Lilliandil. "Thank you," he admitted reluctantly. She nodded at him coldly, and he walked after Lucy with his head hung low, scuffing his feet along the slate floor as he went to signify his unhappiness, effectively tracking the dog dirt across the floor._

_"Sometimes I wonder about that kid," Peter said aloud to no one in particular. Sallowpad murmured in agreement before flying off into the dining hall, leaving the two relatively alone. Lilliandil hobbled over to him, placing a lily-white hand on his shoulder in a comforting way._

_"He'll be all right," she said confidently. "He's strong, a bit hardheaded, maybe, but he's strong. He's got that special sort of spark."_

_"How can you tell?" Peter said, doubt etched in his face. Lilliandil smiled at him, tucking a strand of his gold hair behind his ear._

_"He's the first human I've met who didn't notice that I'm a star," she stated simply, perhaps a bit surprised that the answer came so readily to her lips._

_"A beautiful star," Peter amended as an after thought, and Lilliandil nodded. He had meant it as a compliment, but she had heard the praise sung of her and Susan so frequently that it barely registered in her mind._

_"That too," she agreed, and Peter smiled down at her. Feeling a stirring of audacity in her chest, Lilliandil rose up on the tips of her toes (swollen ankle momentarily forgotten) and kissed his cheek lightly. He blushed, a delightful pink tinging his cheeks, and he turned to her with a bit of a goofy grin on his face._

_"What was that for?" He asked, reaching a hesitant hand to touch his cheek in the spot where he'd felt the momentary caress of a star's lips._

_"For not hitting him after I asked you not to." She said with a light smile on her face._

_"Maybe I should threaten to hit my stupid brother more often," Peter said in faux-thought. She laughed, knocking his shoulder with hers playfully. He returned the gesture, before offering his arm._

_"Dinner, lady?" Peter proposed in playful formality. She took his arm and allowed him to escort her into the dining hall, allowing herself to forget Lucy for the time being._

If Susan ever asked (of which there was no doubt that she would eventually, for sisters love nothing more than to pry into one another's private lives), Lilliandil would not deny that she had flirted with the handsome prince. Touching his arm, smiling, laughing a bit too much, batting her eyelashes… Lilliandil decided that she was rather good at flirting, if she dared to say. Which she did, of course. She hadn't touched her food when with Peter, for she had been so distracted by him that— Lilliandil snapped out of her daydreams when she stubbed one of her perfect toes on the wall. Letting out a stream of profanities that would not look at all suitable in print, her daydreams of Peter, Prince of Narnia, momentarily forgotten. Feeling a bit more awake than she had before, Lilliandil limped even worse than before to their bedroom, cursing dark hallways and stupid walls.

Lucy had gone into their bedroom behind her sister, pealing off her wet clothes and shivering. She recounted the events of the day with a bit of confusion as she dressed in her night gown and rued the smell of fish and lake water that clung to her hair. She'd have to bathe soon, and bathing was a pain because the bath was a wooden tub filled with cold water, and though it got you clean, it wasn't a pleasant experience. She found that after she's dressed for bed, she desperately wanted the food Susan had left for them on the table, cold though it was. But she decided against it, for if she ate too soon before bed she'd be up late, and then she'd be impossible the next day. Kneeling by her bed, Lucy uttered her prayers to Aslan and glared pointedly at her sister until Lilliandil somewhat reluctantly lowered herself onto the ground next to Lucy as if she were an old woman instead of a sixteen-year-old girl.

Lilliandil began to recite the nightly prayer she had led ever since the death of their parents. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lion my soul to keep." Continuing on with Susan's part of the prayer, Lilliandil said. "If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lion my soul to take."

"And if he should give me one more day, I pray I will walk in His Way. And when my days are at an end, I pray at Heaven's Gate, He will invite me in." Lucy prayed solemnly.

Together, they went on: "See me safely through the night, and wake me with the morning light."

Lilliandil continued in a monotone, her eyes closed: "Bless Father, Mother, Susan's mother, my birth mother, Mr. Tumnus, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, the Poles, Peter and Edmund, Sallowpad, Susan, Lucy, Lilliandil—"

"And even Aunt Alberta and Cousin Eustace!" Lucy added, her eyes still closed in prayer. Lilliandil smiled at her sister.

"And even Aunt Alberta and Cousin Eustace." She included, adding it in with a nod.

"Amen."

"G'night, Lu." Lilliandil muttered wearily, crawling into her bed.

"Good night, Lil," Lucy said, and she crawled into her bed. She felt very confused over what had happened; she didn't really understand why Lily was so taken with Peter or why Edmund had been so… rude. She replayed the day's events in her mind's eye from when Edmund had come to more or less 'apologize'.

_Edmund had, to his credit, stuck to his word and gone to apologize to Lucy, however grudgingly he proceeded. She had gone to the garden, full of blossoming cherry trees, and he could see her feet dangling from one of the branches. He walked over a bit apprehensively._

_"You're Lucy, right? Listen, I'm sorry I called you stupid, okay?" Edmund said reluctantly. She plopped down, a half-made wreath of blossoms in her hands. She smiled warmly at him, and it was so sincere that Edmund found himself warmed to the core by her open, honest sincerity._

_"That's all right. Susan and Lily always say that 'Morning Glory' was a stupid name; or rather, a name for a stupid dog. He's not stupid, though, and if you'd just gotten to know him, I'm sure you'd understand that he really didn't mean to be so rude. He knows better, it's just he's just used to people not liking him, so he does it on purpose, I think. He's a rather funny dog, isn't he?"_

_"Yes, I suppose he is," Edmund agreed, finding it rather odd that Lucy had unwittingly used her dog's personality problems as a metaphor for him and his... behavioral issues. _

_"Not a bad dog, no, but an odd one, just the same," Lucy continued. "It's like he doesn't know he doesn't have to be try to be loved, because I love him, just the same, maybe even more than if he were a normal dog." She looked down at the half-finished wreath of cherry blossoms resting delicately in her palms, and tenderly extended it to the King's second son. Edmund looked a little surprised, taking it from her possessively, even though he had no real need or want for the crown of flowers._

_ "Friends?" Lucy asked hopefully, and Edmund found himself terribly conflicted over her question. He wanted nothing more than to insult the weird girl with the smile given so readily and run away like the coward his brother reminded him he was; and yet, paradoxically, he wanted so desperately to have this girl give him her bright smile repeatedly._

_"I suppose I haven't anything better to do," he admitted grudgingly, for really he didn't; he had been brought as company for Peter, and Edmund was not stupid enough to miss the signs that Peter sought no more companionship than Lucy's eldest sister had to offer. Disliking the happy smile that appeared on her face, he added: "But if I find anything better to do, I most certainly _won't _be seen with the likes of you."_

_"Oh." Lucy said, rather sadly. "But until then, I can show you everything I know about Beaversdam and the Western Woods and the Lantern Waste, and we'll have such a jolly good time! My sisters showed me around, and they know nearly everything about everything, so I almost know nearly everything about everything and I can teach you to almost know nearly everything about everything, too! And we'll be the best of friends, and-"_

_"Don't you have anything better to do?" Edmund asked, finding her eternally chipper nature and company rather exhausting._

_"I don't have many friends who are children, you see," Lucy said without a drop of regret. "I don't really know why, but grown-ups seem to enjoy my company more than the other children. Oh well, it doesn't matter. I've got Morning Glory, and Susan, and Lily, and Tumnus, and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, and I've got you now, too!"_

_"Well, that's just… lovely." Edmund said sarcastically. The sarcasm flew over Lucy's head, and she beamed at him._

_"Isn't it just?" Lucy asked rhetorically._

_"That's debatable," Edmund muttered under his breath. Eager to be rid of her, Edmund looked around somewhat wildly for a distraction of this strange girl. "I bet you're too chicken to climb to the top of that wall!" He gestured to the wall at the edge of the garden, on the other side of which was a lake Lucy had frequented with her sisters when they had been younger and carefree. The lake wasn't as large as the Frozen Lake (Ramandu had taken them there when Lucy had been five; she truly had no idea why it was called that, as the lake rarely froze) but was still rather large. The Lion's Paw estate had been built into the lake using some sort of building technique so that the water lapped right against the wall of the garden; the ground of the garden was actually a good fifteen feet above the water, and the top of the wall another ten, making the drop from the top of the wall to the water twenty-five feet at least._

_"That wall?" Lucy asked, taking secret pleasure in her knowledge of climbing. _

_"Do you see _another _wall?" _ _Edmund asked snidely._

_Lucy shook her head, sending a silent prayer to Aslan for that autumn Lilliandil had obsessed over scaling walls and trees, and rolled up the sleeves to her dress. She wrapped her fingers around the vine-covered trellis on the wall and, finding a firm foothold on the base of a the grape plant, she pulled herself up like a monkey, scrabbling up to the top of the wall. She turned around, sitting down with her back against the open air to wave at Edmund with an air of jubilation at having accomplished something he'd thought she couldn't do._

_"Lucy, careful— come down, please!" Edmund noticed the trellis she had used to climb up break off from the wall; the cherry blossom wreath dropped out of his hand onto the ground, forgotten, as the trellis gave way. Lucy overbalanced, and Edmund watched her tumble backwards off the wall in slow motion, his brown eyes widening almost comically. Lucy screamed, and Edmund heard the splash distantly on the other side of the wall. Without thinking twice, he discarded his boots and clambered squirrel-like to the top of the wall. In the water, he saw Lucy splashing and panicking about, trying to grab hold of the slick grime-covered wall. "I'm coming, Lucy!" He yelled, and he vaulted himself over the wall into the lake._

_He hit the water hard; it was colder than he'd expected it to be in early summer, and he began to shiver from the cold. His clothes were weighing him down, and he was glad he had thought to take off his shoes before playing hero. "Lucy? Lucy? Lucy? Lucy? Lucy? Lucy?" Edmund called frantically, fanning his hands out around him in a frenzy, half inhaling water as he called her name. He heard her splashes somewhere to the left of him, and reached out for her. The water was very deep, and Edmund could not see the bottom beneath the surface. Lucy clearly wasn't a very strong swimmer, and appeared to be losing her head in panic. She clung to his arm as a lifeline, and Edmund did his best to swim to the nearest shore. He, having lived by the Eastern Sea the majority of his life, was luckily an accomplished swimmer and swimming to the shore wouldn't have been so terribly difficult as Lucy hadn't been like a dead weight._

_Paddling and kicking desperately, Edmund successfully towed Lucy onto the lakefront and deposited her in the rocky sand unceremoniously. They both sagged onto the ground for a moment, coughing for a moment, before Edmund had sufficiently recovered enough to say:_

_"Well, that was… _fun_." _

_"That's not exactly the adjective I'd use to describe it," Lucy gave it some sincere thinking before continuing. "Perhaps 'terrifying' or 'near-death experience' would be more accurate."_

_"I wouldn't have let you drown!" Edmund exclaimed, a bit indignant as he thought she was implying that he would have been a coward and let her _die. _He may have been a beast to her, but that didn't mean he was _evil, _certainly._

_"I know." Lucy said. "But I doubt I shall go near water again for some time!"_

_"You aren't seriously going to let a small incident ruin water for you, are you?" Edmund was incredulous; the expression on his face was so comical. "But swimming is the best! There's something about the water…" Edmund's whole face had lit up, and Lucy found him much more pleasant with the far-off look in his eyes than the scowl that usual marred his features. "It's just… magical. My mum used to take me swimming when I was younger, before she…" Edmund's dreamy, peaceful smile was replaced by his characteristic scowl._

_"I'm sorry." Lucy put her hand on his shoulder, an understanding, sad smile on her face. He shook off her hand angrily._

_"I don't need your pity!" He snapped. "And you should know how to swim well enough to keep your head above water, Lucy!"_

_Eager to distract him from his grief for his dead mother, Lucy brought the conversation back around to swimming. "My sister taught me, but I was never any good. And we haven't gone in a long time." Edmund's face turned uncharacteristically cheery at the prospect of swimming, and over the following hours, he taught her how to keep her head in deeper water, and Lucy's rusty, mediocre swimming skills improved somewhat. It was getting dark by the time Lucy realized she was cold and tired, and hungry besides._

_"We should get back," she said. "we're soaking wet!"_

_"You smell like fish." Edmund told her frankly as she stood up, but in the hours she had known him, she found that meant 'I agree'._

_They ran back to the manor, which took a while considering they had to run all the way around the garden, which Lucy noticed were quite extensive. Lilliandil and Peter had more or less forgotten them, and Lilliandil was feeding Peter grapes with a flirtatious smile in the dining room, though dinner had long since ended. Peter would kiss her fingers whenever he could catch her slender fingers, which turned out to be often. Lucy, however, knew that Lilliandil could have easily avoided Peter's lips; therefore, Peter was only catching Lilliandil because she was _letting _him catch her. _

_"When did _they _get like _that_?" Edmund asked loudly to Lucy. He had missed their flirtations in the carriage, but Lucy had been privy to the whole conversation; needless to say, she had never heard her sister sound stupider and less like herself than she during the carriage, and found it very peculiar. _

_"I don't know." Lucy shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about her sister being 'in love', as Lucy's naïve eleven-year-old mind perceived it. Lucy's nose wrinkled involuntarily when Peter caught her sister's arm and kissed it up and down. Lilliandil giggled like a little girl. "I'm sure when I'm older, I'll understand."_

_"I _am _older, and I'm not sure I _want _to understand," Edmund said, a look of nauseation on his face. He had actually turned slightly green at his elder brother's behavior._

_"At least they haven't started kissing yet." Lucy pointed out._

_"I think I might lose my lunch if they did!" Edmund shook his head to dispel the 'nauseating' image._

_"Lucy!" Lilliandil said, pulling abruptly away from Peter as she spied Lucy standing in the corner of the room. "I didn't see you!" _

_"You wouldn't have," Edmund said._

_"_Ed…" _Peter growled in warning, a bit miffed at being interrupted._

_"I say, Lu, why by Tarva are you so _wet?"_ Lilliandil asked, standing up and picking up a strand of Lucy's hair, watching with confusion as water dripped onto the floor from the end._

_"Long story," Lucy yawned. _

_"Peter, we should go; it's getting late." Lilliandil said, remembering that, as Lucy's eldest sister, it was her job to say when it was time for Lucy to hit the hay—and judging by Lucy's yawns, she was tired, but not complaining. _

_"Please, allow me to give you a ride home," Peter offered. "You know, with your hurt ankle and such…"_

_" Your highness, I find I cannot condone that sort of behavior. Your father would be most displeased!" Sallowpad, appearing out of nowhere, shot down the idea._

_"When will I see you again?" Peter asked Lilliandil earnestly, taking her hands in his._

_"Really fought 'im on that one, didn't you, Pete?" Edmund remarked sarcastically._

_"I work at the Lion's Claw from two to four tomorrow. Meet me there?" Lilliandil asked hopefully. She was met with three different responses._

_Peter: "Yes!"_

_Sallowpad: "Your Highness, no!"_

_Edmund: "Will Lucy be there?" _

_At the last statement, everyone turned to stare at Edmund in surprise. He seemed not know why he'd said that, but he found that he wanted to see the star's sister again. A little. Maybe. He wasn't sure._

_"Probably." Lucy answered. "Thank you, Peter."_

_"Thank you, Peter," Lilliandil echoed, winking at him. Peter winked back at her. Edmund made a face at his brother behind his brother. _

_"Goodbye, Edmund," Lucy said as she and her sister we escorted out through the doors to Peter's carriage._

And by the time that Lucy's mind had replayed to the ride in the carriage, she was fast asleep, the memories becoming wild, outlandish dreams.

**A/N: Apologies for the word 'yokel'. Couldn't help myself. And guess what? My cousin is playing Susan Pevensie in her school's production of Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe! So excited!**

**Reviews are always welcome, and Happy Holidays!**


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